Don't Stop
by readymachine
Summary: Hermione is captured by the Snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor, where she has no hope for rescue. When fledgling members from the Order manage to save her, she has to find a way to get back to Harry and Ron - unless a certain ginger wants her to stay.
1. Chapter 1

"But did you hear what Fred said?" asked Harry excitedly, now the broadcast was over, his thoughts turned again toward his all-consuming obsession. "He's abroad! He's still looking for the Wand, I knew it!"

"Harry –"

"Come on, Hermione, why are you so determined not to admit it? Vol –"

"HARRY, NO!"

"—demort's after the Elder Wand!"

"The name's Taboo!" Ron bellowed, leaping to his feet as a loud crack sounded outside the tent. "I told you, Harry, I told you, we can't say it anymore – we've got to put the protection back around us – quickly – it's how they find –"

The Sneakoscope on the table lit up and began to spin. The three stood at once as a loud crack sounded from outside the tent and the world suddenly erupted into lights as Harry and Ron began blasting spells in every direction through the tent walls, aiming to distract the Snatchers they knew were waiting for them. In the confusion, the trio ducked through the entrance of the collapsing tent, Hermione shoving the sword of Gryffindor into her small beaded bag as they went.

As she emerged there was no time to see the chaos the boys had caused before Hermione's legs began to pump beneath her, carrying her towards the thicket of woods in the distance. She saw a flash of Harry's jumper disappearing into the woods parallel to her position. Ron's flaming hair was not far behind. She heard yelling behind her as she leapt over a fallen log. Then, the crunch of dead leaves underfoot, gathering speed much quicker than she knew her feet could carry her. She managed a look back and wished at once she hadn't – Fenrir Greyback's furious face was closer, so much closer than she had the strength to outrun. He would be upon her soon.

She looked frantically to her left, catching sight of Harry through the trees. She yelled something unintelligible, anything to get him to glance back before she was overtaken. Mercifully, he looked. He saw Greyback behind her, saw his speed and knew, as well as she, that she would not make it to safety. With a last burst of effort, Hermione launched the beaded handbag with all of its secrets and books and enchanted swords high into the air. It spun in a beautiful arc, spiraling through the air until Harry, the youngest Seeker at Hogwarts in more than a century, caught it deftly between his fingers and disappeared through the trees.

Hermione felt the impact around her knees as Greyback tackled her, felt the dirt and dead leaves fill her mouth as she opened it to scream. Then there was pain as his long fingernails pierced the skin on the back of her neck and she was wrenched to her feet.

"Think you're smart, do you?" Greyback growled into her ear. "We'll show you how bloody smart you really are."

He jammed her roughly down to her knees again as the rest of the Snatchers burst through the forest, all of them breathing heavily with fury in their eyes. A sick sensation was spreading slowly through Hermione's insides. She was a fugitive, she was caught, and she knew there was only one way that this would end.

"The others?" Greyback asked.

A mousy looking Snatcher with dirt staining his face and a burn mark near his temple shook his head.

"Was it Potter?"

After a moment of fearful hesitation, the mousy man nodded.

With a roar, Greyback kicked Hermione in her stomach, doubling her over and sending her coughing into the forest floor.

"You're telling me that we let _Harry fuckin' Potter_ escape? We had him! _We had him_!"

He let loose another kick that caught Hermione under her chin, sending her reeling sideways. Her vision blackened and she was sure she felt some of her teeth shatter as the taste of blood blanketed her tongue. Her ears began to ring as someone hoisted her up roughly by her arm. A calloused hand cupped her chin, forcing Hermione face-to-face with her assailant.

"Well," Greyback growled, his breath hot against her cheeks. "I suppose we'll just have to do with you."

He grinned wide, baring mossy, pointed teeth before his tongue shot out and trailed a messy line across the plane of her face. Hermione felt herself groan involuntarily, her breath shooting out in thick bursts. She was alone and defenseless in a forest with a pack of men who did not care for such things as morality. The sudden thought burned brightly in her mind, making her stomach clench while she slowly assessed any chance at fighting them off. She did not have to be the brightest witch of her age to know there was no hope. Greyback's nostrils flared wide as he took in her scent, a look of cruel satisfaction spreading like a beam of light across his face.

"The things I could do to you," He breathed, tightening his grip on her face. "If only you weren't worth your weight in Galleons."

He turned to the rest of the group.

"I think it's about time we pay the precious Malfoys a visit."

The other Snatchers let out crows of laughter. Tightening his grip on Hermione's arm, Greyback used the hand that had been wrapped around her chin to direct the rest of the group.

"You two stay here. Search whatever's left of the tent. Scabior, you and you there - is it McCready? - anyway, you two go grab the other two prisoners and meet us there. The rest of you come with me."

With a sudden unpleasant twist, Hermione found herself being Disapparated alongside Greyback. She could hear the other Snatchers howling with delight at her capture, the sound echoing through her ears as the world became a shapeless blur around her.

_They don't have the sword, _she thought, frantically. _They do not have Harry or Ron and they do not have the sword._

Somehow, the thought did not comfort her.

They reappeared at the end of a long gravel driveway. Before them stood an immense pair of wrought-iron gates. A massive manor loomed behind the gates, casting a long-reaching shadow over the entire area. There were several sharp pops around Hermione and Greyback as the rest of the Snatchers caught up to their leader. Hermione was surprised when Scabior and McCready appeared with Dean Thomas and a goblin - Griphook if she was not mistaken - in tow. Dean locked eyes with her, but said nothing. She remembered eavesdropping on Dean and his companions on that awful day what seemed like a lifetime ago and wondered what could have happened to their three other traveling companions. She could imagine, of course. Or maybe she couldn't. The Snatchers and Death Eaters were not known for their kindness.

"What now?" Scabior asked once the team had assembled. "How do we get in?"

Greyback walked forward to the gates, yanking a struggling Hermione behind him. He reached forward, wrapping a hairy hand around one of the bars and giving it a firm shake. Immediately, the iron buckled and swiftly reshaped itself into a horrifying face.

"State your purpose!" It screeched, the sound ringing through the air.

"We've got a companion of Harry Potter's!" Greyback shouted. In response, the gates swung open.

"Let's go!" He called to the men behind him. At once, they moved forward, their fugitive charges dragged roughly along. Hermione stumbled on the gravel beneath her, falling onto her stomach and scraping her hand. As she was heaved back up, a frightened albino peacock waddled across their path. Hermione felt a frantic, incredulous laugh building up in her throat. She quickly swallowed it. She did not want to face the consequences of such a mindless action.

The group reached a high wooden door. Before any of the Snatchers could knock, the door swung open, revealing Narcissa Malfoy standing on the threshold. She looked down at the filthy men with disdain evident on her face.

"Yes?" She asked coldly.

"We found - we found Harry Potter, ma'am," Greyback answered.

"Oh?" Narcissa replied lightly, her eyes sweeping over the lot of them. "Then, pray tell, where is the lad?"

Greyback's face fell. His teeth bared slightly when he next spoke.

"He got away."

"Ah," Narcissa crossed her arms over her chest. "Then why are you here on my doorstep?"

"We've got the girl that travels with him!" Scabior piped up from behind Greyback. "The Mudblood girl!"

Greyback spun around and growled fiercely at Scabior, causing the smaller man to shrink back slightly. However, despite his displeasure, Greyback thrust Hermione to the front of the group.

"Aye, the girl," He snarled. "She will know their plan, miss. She will be able to tell you what they've been up to."

Narcissa quickly uncrossed her arms and took a step forward.

"Is it really?" She breathed. "This could be good news, indeed…"

"Cissy?" Came a low voice from behind Narcissa. Hermione felt her lungs freeze. Bellatrix Lestrange slowly emerged from the darkness of the house and came to stand next to her sister. "What's going on?"

"These…_Snatchers_? Is that what you call yourselves? This _group_ has brought us Harry Potter's Mudblood friend."

Bellatrix laughed shrilly.

"It would appear that every dog really does get its day," She cackled.

Greyback bristled, his fingernails digging sharp enough into Hermione's arm to draw blood.

"Bring them in," Bellatrix continued. "Take the Mudblood into the sitting room. Put the others in the cellar with the rest."

Greyback released his hold on Hermione's arm, instead taking her by the scruff of her neck and dragging her off towards a grand room at the end of a narrow hallway. She could hear Dean and Griphook being moved somewhere behind her, though she could not spare a glance in their direction with Greyback's hand forcing her head forward. At last, he came to the room at the end of the hall. Several high-backed chairs ringed the dim room. The only sources of light came from a large fireplace against the west wall and an ornate chandelier twinkling overhead. Hermione only saw these for a moment before Greyback threw her violently to the ground.

"You'll have wished I'd kept you by the time she's through with you, Mudblood" Greyback hissed. "And such a pity, too. Blood all tastes the same, you know. Purebloods, Mudbloods, Half-Bloods - it makes no difference."

With that he left, his tattered, mud-stained robes billowing behind him. Left alone, Hermione wildly thought of a way to escape. She could feel charms over the building preventing her from Disapparating. She wondered how far she could run if she could only squeeze out of one of the windows or somehow find a door that had failed to be latched properly. She would only have to make it far enough past the barrier to Disapparate and then she could make it - where? It would be nearly impossible to meet up with Harry and Ron. The Burrow would be too dangerous. Her house was surely empty with her parents off in Australia, but she did not want there to be any clues linking her to them. She swiftly made a decision to make the choice once she had found a way out of Malfoy Manor, but a soft noise from behind her broke her train of thought. She turned quickly, scooting backwards on her knees as she went.

Draco Malfoy stood before the fireplace, his profile silhouetted against the crackling flames behind him. He seemed somehow smaller than Hermione remembered him. It was as though something had deflated him.

"Granger," He said. Hermione did not respond. He took a step towards her. Hermione did not move.

"Hermione Granger," He repeated. She heard something in his tone she was not prepared for. Was it pity? fear? or something else entirely? She caught a better glimpse of his face as he took another step forward. The pale skin and pointed featured were familiar, of course, yet there was an emotion swimming behind his gray eyes that she had never seen there before: _remorse_.

"Draco," She responded. He took a deep, shuddering breath. His hand shot out as though he wanted to help her up, but he retracted it just as quickly. His posture quickly became rigid, his eyes falling down to the hardwood floor.

"Draco!" Bellatrix exclaimed from behind Hermione. "Darling boy, I did not know you were in here. Would you like to help your Aunt Bella? Hmmm?"

Draco glanced up at his aunt. Hermione saw panic register briefly across his features before they molded back into an expressionless mask.

"No, thank you, Aunt Bella," He responded softly.

"Ah, what a shame. Would you like to watch how we interrogate Mudbloods? If you're a good boy I may even let you do the next one on your own."

"No, thank you, Aunt Bella," Malfoy said again, this time a bit stronger. "If you'll excuse me, Aunt, I believe my father needed my assistance in the drawing room."

He strode out briskly, keeping his gaze pointed straight ahead so he could not see Hermione's face as he left. The door closed behind him, the noise echoing through the quiet air.

"Now, little Mudblood," Bellatrix purred, crossing the room to stand in front of Hermione. She produced a small silver knife from her pocket and twirled it innocently between her fingers. The light from the fireplace glinted sharply across the blade.

"Now, it's time for us to have some fun."

A/N: I feel obligated to mention that the first few lines of the story was lifted directly from the Deathly Hallows. Hope you enjoyed.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: There is torture in this chapter. Please don't read if you feel as though it will upset you. Otherwise, continue along and I hope you enjoy!

"It's been a week, Mudblood."

Hermione did not respond. Her left arm dangled uselessly beside her twisted torso, the socket stretched backwards almost to the point of breaking - but only almost. Bellatrix currently had her slowly rotating three feet above the floor, her body contorted backwards into an unnatural position. Hermione had been surprised that the strain on her spine had not snapped it in two, though she knew that her session with Bellatrix was nowhere near being over and the worse had certainly yet to come. Fresh tears trailed hot and sticky across her swollen face. The first few days of her confinement, Hermione had stubbornly attempted to hold them in. She should have known better. Bellatrix delighted at watching her prey squirm and fracture. Hermione was no different.

"Are you ready to tell the truth, eh?" Bellatrix paced in a slow circle around Hermione's warped form, delight evident in her eyes.

"We were just in hiding," Hermione heard her voice say. The lie had taken over, repeating itself without thought.

"_Just_ hiding?"

Bellatrix flicked her wand with a hiss. There was a sharp crack and a burst of light. The index finger of Hermione's left hand immediately sprung completely backwards, twisting as it went. Hermione felt the bones flay apart and cried out, wriggling violently against her invisible bonds.

"Stop!" she screamed, her mind lighting up with pain. "Please, please, just stop, please!"

Bellatrix laughed, the shrill sound carrying over Hermione's wails for mercy.

"Stupid Mudblood," she sang. "Only truth will bring release!"

Wildly, Hermione thought of giving in. The quest for the horcruxes, the revelation of the Hallows, she thought of saying anything - _anything_ - to make the daily tortures end. She could not take it much longer, she knew. It was simply too much pain for her to bear.

"Bella," came a cold voice from the doorway. The magic holding Hermione aloft faltered, dropping her a few inches.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Bellatrix spat.

Hermione fell a few inches more. She turned her head as far as she could manage to confirm who had interrupted Bellatrix's fun. She only caught sight of a deep black cloak before her rotation forced the figure from view, though she knew that she could never forget that voice. Not after six years of lessons.

"The Dark Lord has become…impatient," Severus Snape drawled. "Your tactics have yielded no new information. He sent me to see if I would have better luck using my talents."

"You - are - _not_ the only Legilimens here," Bellatrix shouted. Hermione's rotation put her back in view of her former Potion's master. His dour face sat atop his black traveling robes, looking just as pale and sinister as she recalled.

"Really?" Snape asked. "And what have your attempts to penetrate Miss Granger's mind taught you?"

Hermione watched as small jets of red sparks shot out of the end of Bellatrix's wand, scorching the wood on the floor.

"You don't have to tell me," Snape said before Bellatrix could respond. "I can already see that you have found _nothing_. Now, as I am acting on direct orders from our Lord, perhaps you could leave the two of us alone and go brush up on your Occlumency?"

Bellatrix screeched in disapproval, her eyes burning with hatred. Snape stood his ground, watching almost lazily as the psychopathic witch in front of him spun on her heels and stormed out of the sitting room. She whipped her wand around as she left and Hermione's arm spun backwards in its socket. It dislocated from her shoulder with a hollow pop and a rush of pain. Hermione could hear Bellatrix's delighted cackling over her screams as the door snapped shut.

Almost immediately, the magic holding Hermione in the air gave out and she was sent crashing to the ground. Before she could connect with the hardwood, however, another force caught her and pulled her up into a standing position. Snape strode the few steps forward to stand in front of her, his wand out and aimed at her chest.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," Snape said, his voice even and calm.

"I can't - God, just - please - " Hermione was not sure what she wanted to say. Everything hurt. She just wanted it to stop. She had started crying now. The pain was too much.

"Miss Granger…" Here, he faltered. Hermione felt a small bloom of hope open in her chest. "I…am sorry."

His pale hand tightened around his wand.

"_Crucio_!"

Every pain center in Hermione's brain lit up like a thousand tiny suns. She was aware of screaming, though the sound was lost in the rush of fiery blood shooting through her veins. It was as if she had been dropped in a massive vat of acid with no way to escape.

Then, suddenly, there was no pain, no sight, no nothing. Everything had simply gone black. Hermione was not quite sure if she was awake or dreaming. There was a flash of white - then the image of a golden cup swam into view. The edges wavered, but an emblem of badger glowed brightly on the side. The image sunk from view. Another flash of white and three brilliantly glowing numbers appeared in the darkness: 5945. These, too, only wavered for a moment before sinking down into the darkness. There was one more flash, followed by an image Hermione knew well: the façade of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. This last image lingered the longest, sinking slowly down through the darkness until Hermione was enveloped in nothingness.

Abruptly, Hermione found herself crumpled in a heap on the floor on Malfoy Manor. From her position, she could see the hem of Snape's robes and the tips of his pointed shoes. She heard the doors open, along with the loud click of Bellatrix's heels against the floorboard. Hermione quickly closed her eyes and remained as still as possible, hoping that Bellatrix would assume that she had simply passed out and thus end the torture session of the day.

"Well, what have your _talents_ yielded, then?" Hermione heard Bellatrix sneer.

"It seems that Harry Potter and his friends were searching for a weapon."

Hermione held in a gasp. Snape was lying for her - for Harry. It was he who had planted those images in her head, she now knew. But what had been the purpose?

"A weapon?"

"Miss Granger found a mention of it while still at Hogwarts. The three have been searching for it since their escape in July, though it seems that they have not had much luck with locating it."

"Well? Where is it?"

"I was unable to gather that information before the girl lost consciousness."

"Then wake her up!"

"You have been at her for hours now," Snape sighed impatiently. "Her mind is exhausted. I cannot accurately penetrate it while she is in such a state. Put her down with the others and I will return tomorrow to continue."

"You presume to hold the authority to give me orders in my own home?"

"Bella," Snape replied, "Let us not take this to the Dark Lord, hm?"

Bella made an indistinct sound of rage.

"Now," Snape continued. "If you'll excuse me, I have a school to run."

Hermione heard his footsteps trail across the room and out into the hallway. Bellatrix was not far behind. She remained where she was on the floor, her mutilated arm and hand cradled close to her chest. Soon, the pain and exhaustion overwhelmed her and she felt her grip on consciousness fade again.

_5945_, she kept thinking as darkness washed over hers. _The cup, Gringotts, 5945_. _The cup, Gringotts, 5945_.

Hermione awoke much later in the dark cellar, her head and arm pounding. Hermione felt her head cushioned by something living. Someone's fingers combed delicately through her matted hair.

"Luna?" She asked softly.

"Oh! Hermione!" The body beneath her head shifted slightly. "Are you alright? I'm afraid we couldn't patch you up much."

"We were worried that you were dead at first, my dear," She heard Ollivander say from three feet to her left.

"There was so much screaming," Dean chimed in.

"How long…?" Hermione managed to ask.

"Have you been out?" Luna replied. "Hours and hours and hours. I think it must be near dawn by now."

"Would you like some water?" Dean asked. Hermione nodded, hoping that he could see her movements in the dark. She wasn't sure if she could manage another word.

"No use," Came a gruff, sullen voice from the corner. "They'll just kill you later."

"Don't talk like that, Griphook," Luna said, uncharacteristically sharp. Griphook responded with a grumble in Gobbledegook.

Dean returned with the water jug and tipped the contents slowly into Hermione's open mouth. The cold liquid sailed down her throat and settled in her stomach, making her feel infinitely better. Luna began to stroke Hermione's hair again.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Luna said, her voice light. "We'll get out of here soon. Believe me."

Hermione wanted to believe Luna. She wanted to believe Luna with all of her heart. Yet, she did not know how she could let herself have such hope while being in such dire straits.

A sharp crack broke the silence in the cellar, followed by three more in succession.

"What the - ?" Dean cried out, scurrying backwards.

"Dean?" Said a new male voice.

"_Lumos_," Said yet another, this one a woman.

A small beam of light illuminated the cellar. Hermione saw Luna's pale, bruised face shining just above her. Dean was to the right, next to the wall. Ollivander had moved forward when the sounds rang out to sit, crouched next to the two girls. Griphook was still slumped over in the corner, shielding his face from the sudden light. She strained to see the faces behind the light, but could not make out the shadows.

"Oh, _no_," The first voice breathed. Two shadows moved forward and into the beam of light. Identical faces, right down to the freckles plastered across their noses and the looks of horror marring their features.

"'Mione…" Fred Weasley moaned, crouching down next to Hermione's broken form.

"Fred," She replied, disbelief flooding her mind. "Are you really here?"

"We're really here," He responded. "Now, just hang on. We're going to get you guys out of here."


	3. Chapter 3

"Is it just you five?" George asked, squinting into the dim light.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Who's with you?"

"Sorry!" Came the female voice behind the lit wand. The light angled downward, allowing a better look at the faces of their rescuers. Hermione recognized two other alumnus from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell. Strangely, however, it seemed that each was carrying a dark mound on their back. Dark mounds that quickly shifted positions and dropped to the ground, striding into the light and revealing themselves to be -

"_House elves_?" Hermione gasped, surprised. She tried to sit up, but a fierce pain exploded through her arm and she let herself fall back against Luna instead.

"Yes, miss!" One of the small creatures squeaked, moving forward. It was pale with massive mauve eyes. It was wearing some sort of tea cozy, Hermione thought, though she could not be sure in the light. The other house elf - a larger, tan creature wearing the same uniform - walked forward as well, coming to stand close to Hermione and Fred.

"Yes, yes, house elves," Fred responded quickly. "And as soon as we're out of here we'll be happy to listen to you rant on about that _spew_ nonsense again, but for now can we please leave the Death Eater hang out?"

"What do we do?" Luna asked.

"Loomy and Sunny can zap us out of here," Katie said. "Just take a hand."

Loomy and Sunny gathered in the middle of the group and stretched out their arms. Each of the five prisoners and their four saviors held on to a portion of the house elves' arm or hand, forming a cramped circle in the middle of the cell.

"All ready?" Angelina asked.

"Best make it quick before - "

But whatever George was about to say was cut off by the sharp click of the door opening. A surprised Death Eater stood on the doorstep, his wand already raised and at the ready.

"GO, GO, GO, GO!" Fred screamed.

The next few seconds passed very quickly for Hermione. She felt someone pull away. She heard the frantic yelling of curses being thrown and saw jets of sparks launching across the room. The world began to compress as the house elves began to Disapparate. As the group disappeared, Hermione heard a single yell above the clamor in the room:

"_Avada Ked -"_

Then they were gone.

Hermione landed roughly on her feet, her injured leg crumpling beneath her weight and sending her to the ground. The others appeared in a circle as gracefully as Hermione had, most falling immediately upon arrival or landing sprawled across the dirt. Hermione took a quick stock of her surroundings: they were in a forest clearing. She could hear running water somewhere close by. Luna and Dean had landed on top of one another and were trying to untangle their legs. Ollivander was on his feet, his wide eyes turned upwards towards the bright spring morning. Hermione did not know how long it had been since he had seen the light of dawn, but she could tell as he took in the dim sunlight peeking through the trees that he had sorely missed it. Griphook sat somewhat apart from the group, eyeing them all warily with his beady black eyes. Fred and the two house elves were standing towards the middle of the circle, panic spreading across his freckled features. Katie…and, Katie…

Hermione saw her before anyone else. Facedown, her open eyes wide and lifeless. Her wand was still clutched in her hand.

"We have to go back for George and Angelina!" She heard Fred say dimly in the background as she began to crawl towards Katie's body. Her injured leg dragged painfully behind her.

"We can't, sir," the smaller one squeaked, the large ears on top of its head drooping down. Hermione had nearly made it to Katie now, though the pain in her leg was making it more and more difficult to continue forward.

"You CAN'T?!" Fred yelled, disbelievingly. Color had risen up his neck and painted his face a terrible scarlet. "You're bloody HOUSE ELVES! Just zap back in there and GET MY BROTHER."

Hermione had reached Katie now. She turned the older girl over, shivering at how cold the skin had already become. She took in Katie's open, empty eyes. Her face - frozen in surprise, the mouth hanging open. Had she even seen the curse coming? Had she thought she would be safe as the house elves transported them away? Hermione could not afford to think such things. With trembling hands, she closed Katie's eyes for the last time.

"Fred!" Hermione shouted, trying to get his attention. It did not work. He needed to know. He needed to see.

"We can't, sir," The larger house elf chimed in, its voice surprisingly gruff. "Orders, sir. The Headmaster said we could only go in once. We can't disobey orders, sir."

"_Fred_!" Hermione shouted again. Fred still did not hear.

"FUCK what Snape told you to do!" Fred screeched, panic flooding his voice. "We need to go back for them!"

"_FRED_!"

"_WHAT, HERMIONE_?!" Fred spun around, his features contorted with fury.

"Katie," Hermione responded, her voice cracking.

Now, Fred saw. The breath rushed out of him, taking all of his color with it.

"_Katie_," Fred echoed.

The house elves took the opportunity to disappear with sharp _cracks_. Fred whipped his head around a moment too soon and was left staring at the empty space the house elves had left in their wake.

"They're gone," He said helplessly. "They're gone. She's gone…he's gone. Oh, Merlin."

His knees buckled beneath him. Hermione heard a sob rip its way out of Fred's throat. The five remaining stood silently with him, none knowing what to do or say. It was Luna - dear, sweet Luna - who approached him. She kneeled down, placing a small hand on his shoulder.

"But we're still here."

Fred was still for a beat before he nodded.

"Okay," He said softly. "Okay. You're right."

He stood, wiping his face hastily on his sleeve. He looked around at the group, his eyes wide.

"You're right. Of course, you're right."

He squared his shoulders and straightened his back, though Hermione could see his wand arm shaking.

"Alright. Let's head home."


End file.
